The Gift of Beating Hearts
by Wolf-Cry-Night
Summary: The ability to reach out and touch someone, to hold them together when all seems lost, is a gift that transcends both worlds, and time. It was a gift that he kept on giving, right until the very end. He was what kept them all together, what kept them whole when everything crumbled around them. He was their reason, their purpose, and their inspiration, and now he was gone.


Hello all! It's Wolf here, how is everyone?

Anyways, this is my second attempt at a chapter story on Fanfic...let's hope this one goes a little better huh? I'm particularly fond of this little thing here, so I really hope it works out like I want it to. Anways, it's not really you're conventional sort of story, because the chapters will be able to stand alone as one-shots, but they're all connected by a common theme. Except they aren't really one-shots actually, but if I say anymore it'll spoil all the fun!

As usual, I don't own Yu Yu Hakusho, however, the story line, and any non-canon character within it belong to myself alone, as well as any one of the events that is not shown in the anime itself.

Let's have some fun, shall we?

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The Gift of Beating Hearts

Chapter One

Aislinn

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The same ethereal atmosphere; the same, shining ribbon of the river Styx winding through the obviously unearthly pink-ish hued landscape. The same stale wind through short dark strands of hair from so far up above the rest of the un-worldly realm. Liquid brown eyes that had seen too much, had been a part of it all and held too much of that knowledge for their apparent age stared at the slim back of the woman in front of him, her indigo-colored kimono fluttering in that same dead wind.

"Almost there, Mr. Urameshi. I'm sure you know you're way around by now."

Yes, he did. He'd been to the destination far too many times now to count, much less be forgetful of the way. Yes, he knew the way to his true death.

"Great, Lady. Just hurry up, would ya?" Age old annoyance rose to the surface of his demeanor, his tolerance levels only slightly better than they had been when all this had first started. The oar beneath him jerked forward with the sudden increase in the speed of forward motion. Familiar cliffs enclosed them on both sides before the infamous castle came into view.

"Still has that God-awful paint job, huh?" His remark received no response from his chauffeur, but he hadn't expected one. The Toddler rarely employed individuals who lacked a stick up their asses. His reaper escort left him at the massive, pink door to the office of the Prince of Spirit World without another word, leaving Yusuke Urameshi alone with his thoughts. A dangerous action that tempted fate on some occasions.

"Yusuke. It's good to see you again. I only wish it could be under different circumstances."

"Koenma. So where is my immortal soul headed for this time?" Koenma chuckled.

"Somewhere much better than it was headed the last two times, I'm sure. Are you ready?" Yusuke flashed his familiar grin and gave the Toddler Ruler a thumbs up.

"Do your worst, Diaper Breath."

Koenma Daioh, Prince of Spirit World and Over-seer of earth flashed his former Spirit Detective a sad smile and lifted the shiny gold stamp on his desk, watching it drip ink onto the flat, colorful surface, for a moment unable to bring himself to permanently end the story of the man before him, unable to toss away the glorious, multifaceted, dirty, cracked, gemstone that was the rag-tag, rough-around-the-edges life of a teenage delinquent named Yusuke Urameshi. Koenma shook his head with a small smile as he brought the stamp down harshly on the thick file of one of the most complicated lives he'd ever known.

"I don't have to, Yusuke..." The tall, jeans-clad figure faded. "I don't have to."

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It was fitting, really, that the weather be what it was on that day. The rain fell in sluggish, reluctant sheets upon the city, the sky crying, sobbing for the loss of all that was good in that one life. Thunder rolled through the steely gray clouds like massive fists beating against the world, making it tremble and shake. Lightning cut through the gloom like a burning brand, a sharp contrast to the melancholy image of thunder and rain, slicing through the sky from cloud to ground like the agonized scream of a loved one. It was strangely fitting that the sky itself would grieve the loss of a man whose passing was viewed as a blessing to the general public.

There weren't that many people out that evening, of course not, considering it was a Monday and the rain was persistent in its goal to drench any and everything, likening the streets of the city to the little castle at the bottom of a murky fish bowl. All but the most persistent of travelers were holed up inside the warmth and shelter of their homes, watching the storm through rain-slicked windowpanes. The girl cursed under her breath as she stumbled on the wet pavement, inadvertently stepping into another puddle on the sidewalk. She grimaced at the wet fabric of her jeans as it clung to her legs, regained her footing, and brushed wet strands of dark hair from her face as it stuck to her forehead and cheeks, right hand clutching the strap of her medium-sized messenger bag like a lifeline.

Aislinn Raine was moderately proud of herself. She hadn't started crying yet. She hadn't completely broken down into fits of frame shaking sobs, not after that first time, at least. She'd made it all the way through the week of school without becoming a jabbering, blubbering, tearful mess. The realist part of her brain let her know that she would probably lose it today. After all, who wouldn't cry at the funeral of the only friend they'd ever had?

She muttered under her breath and squinted at the street signs through the rain, looking for one in particular. In the back of her mind, she knew she wouldn't be well received by the funeral-goers, not in this soggy, desperate shape. But since when had she cared about what other people thought?

All other thoughts screeched to a violent halt as a familiar apartment complex came into view. The lights were on, and this close, Aislinn could almost hear clearly the mutters that were undoubtedly taking place within its walls. She was struck with the grief quite suddenly, stumbling over a crack in the sidewalk and sucking in the unexpected sob as a sharp gasp. His last funeral had been much less popular. She chuckled sadly to herself as she fell into the line of heavyhearted, dejected mourners. Yusuke had been lucky to have anyone at all at his last funeral, even if most of them had only been there to mock him. The supposed bully of the school. Uncontrollable. A rotten apple. A worm in the eyes of the faculty and the boogeyman of everyone else. It was different for Aislinn, it always had been. But maybe she'd just understood the guy better, who knows.

She shuffled forward with the line's movement, conscious now of the quiet sniffling and surreptitious tear swiping going on in front and behind her. She could feel the stares of those people not completely lost in their grief, felt their gazes cold through her soaking wet clothes, imagined their whispers through the dark, dripping hair that shielded her downward tilted face from view. It never failed. The natures of people would never change. Even during a funeral they proceeded to cast judgments upon those around them. Aislinn Raine was a quiet girl. More likely just to get up and walk away than turn and fight. It was a miracle that she and Yusuke had even met each other, much less become as good of friends as they had. At least, she called them friends. She at least deserved that much-a friend-it was all she had. But then again, who was she to say what she did and didn't deserve in the world? She'd faced minimal hardships, her only problem in school came from the knowledge of her association with Yusuke, but she hadn't cared then, and still didn't care now.

A warm, cheerful rush of air greeted her as she stepped into the glow of the room, lit by florescent lights and gently scented candles, and as she continued to shuffle forward, his grinning face stared back at her from behind the class of a picture frame.

When at last the line dwindled away, she stood alone in front of him, a face in a box, frozen in time. So familiar.

"Atsuko, hey." She knelt in front of the sobbing woman, who looked up briefly to give her a shaky nod.

"Lin. Lin he's-he's really gone this time, isn't he?" Lin nodded, saying nothing and bowing her head briefly in respect before turning to face the coffin, and the image that stared back at her. The backs of her eyes burned.

" So you're dead, huh? I guess the third time really is the charm with you." Her breath caught in her throat. "I miss you, haven't seen you since I was what, seven? I was real proud of myself, you know. I don't think I ever told you that. " Lin dropped her head, her bangs falling across her face to hide her eyes.

"You're a real piece of work, you know that? Picking up and leaving me here, fucking coward. Who dies in a goddamn car accident!?" She wasn't aware that her voice had risen, but it didn't matter. No one but his mother was here to see her finally fall apart, and she wouldn't care. She felt the tears on her face and closed her eyes, giving up. Guess Atsuko wasn't going to be alone in her grief anymore.

"How could you...? How could you leave me all alone... again?"


End file.
